


You Haunt Me

by Cyrelia_J



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [12]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Dubious Consent, Horror, M/M, Monsters, Sexual Content, Wendigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 17:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15393603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyrelia_J/pseuds/Cyrelia_J
Summary: Set during The Wire.While watching Garak sleeping, Julian begins to lose himself, realizing that Garak's implant may not be the only danger to the Cardassian."He’s felt the pull before, he’s felt that slight stir around the dead before- his penance as a doctor- never cleansing his evil no matter how many he tries to save- but he’s always been able to control it. 'You swore, you promised me this would never happen again! This was never supposed to happen again, you said it wasn’t a curse. You lied to me, father. You lied to me and now Garak is going to-'"prompt fill for Wendigo! Julian





	You Haunt Me

**Author's Note:**

> Once again this got off track from the original fill but I don't think anyone's too surprised by now. The original request was for a Wendigo!Julian finding himself changing when he meets his mates Garak and Parmak, and struggling to accept himself. The original asked for a Hannibal tie in but I ended up going a different route since I couldn't get a handle on the series well enough for my own liking. I did draw some inspiration from the "Bleach" anime, so there is that >>; Again apologies to prompt requester for the divergence.

           Garak is dying. Even if he wasn’t aware of it on an intellectual level, Julian can scent it. More than that, he can _taste_ it. The sickeningly sweet taste of decomposition it already beginning to fill his nostrils. In the dark the smell seems sharper, it coats his tongue thickly, and he can feel his skin begin to crawl when it does. That feeling descends deeper than his skin though; is sinks down into his bones until he feels his very skeleton begin to ache, feels as if the marrow itself in on fire.

           Julian’s hand reaches up to his throat in response, thumb pressing into his adam’s apple, feeling the skin begin to give more than usual, feeling more like putty than muscle and sinew. He swallows hard, starting to feel his heart beat faster. He feels like he’s dying right along with Garak. There’s a low growl in his throat and he closes his eyes, trying to breathe deeply and calm himself.

           Garak is sleeping. _Don’t die. Don’t die, please._ Julian is desperate to see his friend live. He doesn’t understand why the trigger is so strong. He feels the pull come on when someone in his care passes, but that’s only motivated him his entire life to keep everyone alive, to keep them from his curse. Julian hugs himself tightly on the seat next to Garak’s bed. He finds himself standing up, circling the restless form with agitation before slamming himself back into the chair.

            _The legends used to tell of a curse which would befall those who gave into the temptation to taste human flesh. The story goes that those who give into that greed, that evil in their hearts will be consumed by the need to feed. Their gaunt monstrous forms haunting the night, haunting those hovering near death until that need can be satisfied. They’re tortured with the taste of blood forever filling their mouths, calling for more, slender black bodies stalking the night, a whisper in the air to those unfortunate enough to cross them. They are the wendigo._

           As a child on Inverna II he witnessed the death of a little girl because they didn’t know that the right herbs would have saved her life. That’s how the story goes, with that somber haunted look, followed by the listener putting a reassuring hand to his shoulder. When Garak heard the story, he merely gave Julian a measured look and put a hand to his shoulder. It wasn’t reassuring. It was hard, it was a squeeze echoing an odd heated expression that made Julian’s heart flutter and that liquid flood his frame. He excused himself to the Infirmary from their lunch, unable to steady his breaths.

           The girl hadn’t died from her illness. Julian had killed her. He and his father had sat with her during the storm in the darkness, and it was the scenting of that impending death which had caused Julian to turn. His father watched him carefully as he started scratching at his skin, as he asked panicked what was happening to him. His father’s dark hooded eyes merely watched silently as Julian felt that liquid feel to his throat, and the monster burst forth. His father continued to watch silently as he devoured her, the world spinning into nothing but his limbs whirling like their own violent storm, rending flesh and bringing it greedily to his mouth. His father never spoke of the incident only to murmur that it was unfortunate.

His father had sent him to Adigeon Prime next, telling him that they would see to him.

Julian was faster, smarter, could hear better, see better than anyone else even in the dark. He never knew if that was from the treatments or from that _other_.

           He hears Garak making a soft moan in his sleep, and Julian’s entire body jerks to the side nearly pulling him off the chair. Oh. It does. He is. That is, he’s on the floor whispering soft prayers as he looks down and sees the fine hairs on his arm smooth down and vanish. _No. Nonono. Not now, not Garak._ He grips his own wrist tightly, as if somehow that gesture could hold back the elongating of bones, and the dip in his throat which begins to hollow and round out. He scrabbles back, already his nails making scratching sounds across the floor. He tries to growl, tries to scream in warning to Garak but instead finds that hole opened up wide, clear through his throat.

           The skin on the left side of his face is pulling away on the left, pulling back from his teeth, the bones getting longer, sharper, the other side of his face that bone pushing clear through skin, calcifying over the entire right side like a hideous mask that he can’t rip away. _Garak!_ He tries to scream, but can’t with the perfect hole through his throat. He could put his fingers through it if he tried, but he doesn’t dare. Julian tries to move back again, but the spasms racking his body are too strong as he rolls onto his knees, his spine growing, stretching. He doesn’t understand how he breathes with that wound, but somehow he does, the world coming into sharp vibrant focus, a kaleidoscope of colors that bathe the dark of the room brilliantly.

           He scents sharper, tasting that death but also tasting something else as he raises up, feeling a brush of the ceiling to his… Julian reaches up slowly, feeling the antlers, tasting the blood as he stalks the sleeping fitful form. _No. No not him, not Garak, stop moving, Julian!_ The treatments were supposed to stop this. He’s felt the pull before, he’s felt that slight stir around the dead before- his penance as a doctor- never cleansing his evil no matter how many he tries to save- but he’s always been able to control it. _You swore, you promised me this would never happen again! This was never supposed to happen again, you said it wasn’t a curse. You lied to me, father. You lied to me and now Garak is going to_ -

           Julian almost shuts his eyes to keep from watching his body moving. He doesn’t want to see those claws slicing through the scales of Garak’s skin. He doesn’t want to see the blood gush from the carotid artery, and even as he thinks that, another scent to the air, scenting blood and death begins to stir the mass between his legs. It makes him sick but it also confuses him. This is hunger but it’s not _that_ hunger, he realizes. It’s not the hunger to feed. Or rather, it’s the hunger to rip into Garak’s flesh, but only in the course of climbing on the bed and mounting him, holding him down, possessing him, tasting his sweet sticky blood spilling through his lips as he fucks into him and-

           “Ah, I see you’re awake, doctor,” he hears Garak whisper so softly under his breath that he’s not sure he heard it correctly. Julian opens his mouth, forgetting a moment that he can’t answer. Except there’s a hiss of air that passes through his teeth which seems to mimic human speech. It’s then he realizes that Garak wasn’t speaking in a language passing his lips, but that same series of sounds. It’s then he realizes that Garak isn’t entirely Garak any longer, but that his body too is slowly growing darker, the ridges of his faces hardening into gray armor plates, face growing longer, limbs also growing longer.

            _I see you’re awake,doctor._ Garak wasn’t referring to his state of consciousness but rather-

 _“Garak…”_ is what he knows he says, stalking, feeling that possessive feeling intensify. Julian feels his entire body tremor as he watches Garak turning, changing, the clothes bursting, sloughing off to the floor, Julian looking down realizing that his own have as well. He’s never been able to glimpse his own form, but he sees it now, black like the darkness, the white of bone jutting through in places, his slim body gaunt, a maudlin skeleton and yet he knows it’s stronger than it’s ever been before. He sees his length hanging down between his legs heavy, swinging slowly back and forth, only growing stiffer as he nears Garak.

           Julian is afraid. He’s afraid because he can feel the pulse of blood, and feel the blood slick in his mouth starting to spill out the side of the exposed jaw, running down his neck. At least he thinks it’s blood because it has that metallic tang, his tongue long and thick lapping at it with a shiver. He watches Garak’s beautiful body twisting from its side to its stomach, arms stretching towards the floor, a scratch of nails hitting it, those limb now impossibly long and beautiful with their blend of black armored bone and gray ridges twisting around them. The sound of the bed crashing, of the equipment falling and breaking dies around him as his focus narrows to the creature in front of him. Julian sees Garak’s blue eyes looking back, his ridges having formed a similar calcified mask over his his eyes, his _chufa_ gone to be replaced by a hole matching the one through Julian’s throat.

           Julian can see right through it, clear through Garak’s head as the body half falls, half spider crawls to the floor presenting itself on hands and knees, a look to Julian’s distended and swollen length before sinking down. Julian feels another throb, this time the hiss of _“Garak”_ so visceral and deep that he knows he won’t be able to control himself much longer. He can feel that sticky fluid start to pool at the slit of his cock and he hisses something that even _he_ doesn’t understand, earning a low rumble that his mind supplies as a laugh in return. He’s on his knees behind Garak before he realizes it, sharp claws already digging into Garak’s hip bone, the jutting bones, converging at Garak’s center, a dip down, a slick, shimmering hole, already weeping its own slightly dark fluid out, down Garak’s thighs. Julian is going to devour him. Every inch of him. He’s going to sink into every bit of him until he comes out the other side and-

            _“I hate this place. I hate you.”_

            That’s what Garak says but Julian can’t stop. He enters him hard swallowing an apology, bent over that changing form, already tasting his face and the fluid sluicing from Garak’s mouth. The apology dies on his lips when Garak hisses at him again.

_“Harder.”_

 —-

           The trip back from the Arawath colony is unsettling. Julian had thought that Tain was going to give him the information that he needed to save Garak’s life. He had pushed that night with Garak to the back of his mind, Garak’s worsening condition stealing all of his focus. He blamed himself. They shouldn’t have- _He_ shouldn’t have- Julian swallows, not sure how to even think about it, how to understand it. Garak assured him that if anything Julian had ensured his continued existence a few more days, a passing free of pain. That wasn’t good enough for him. Not now. Not when after all these years there was someone else who could understand him, who knew his secrets, who wouldn’t hate him or call him a monster or-

           “Doctor Bashir?” The voice comes from his left, spoken softly, and he looks over at last. Julian had been avoiding looking at the man since their first meeting. He doesn’t understand why. Doctor Kelas Parmak is, as Julian understands it, himself an exile, the assignment his only chance at freedom from the “hell they dragged me from.” Julian doesn’t rightly understand what that means. He doesn’t understand why Doctor Parmak was presented to him in lieu of the Cardassian biological information that he had asked for. Tain had merely given him an enigmatic smile and assured him that Doctor Parmak would give both Julian and Elim exactly what they had needed.

           There was a certain way that Doctor Parmak had looked at Julian which unsettled him. He couldn’t rightly explain it. Doctor Parmak was a tall, slim man with an easy smile, almond shaped violet eyes that peered at him from small spectacle frames, and an expression that was far from unfriendly. Doctor Parmak was unusual for a Cardassian with his long white hair braided back threaded through with black and gray beads. Julian had never seen anything like it. Julian had also been confused by the way the doctor stopped, looked in his eyes with a push of his glasses, and refrained from touching Julian’s extended hand.

           In fact, Doctor Parmak while making idle small talk on the matter of literature and comparative differences in the Cardassian endocrine system, has been careful not to touch him at all. Julian has respected that, supposing it’s some custom - Doctor Parmak having explained that he’s from one of the two  Northern continents of Cardassia Prime - unique to that region. But there’s been a strange itch that he’s been feeling beneath his skin once more the closer they come to Deep Space Nine, and he finds his eyes lingering longer on Doctor Parmak’s long fingers and small plush looking lips. _What are you doing Julian? What are you thinking? What’s wrong with you?_

           “You’re thinking rather loudly,” Doctor Parmak informs him from the passenger seat after a long moment of quiet. _It’s you. It’s you and I don’t know what’s going on_. “Is something the matter?” he asks, and Julian isn’t sure why he starts to feel his skin prickling with anticipation.

           “Sorry, I’m just worried about Garak. I know you’ve assured me. I understand it’s a simple procedure but there’s a state that I left him in and I can’t trust that everything will be alright until we’re back.”

           “Elim is strong, Doctor Bashir. He’ll be fine.” Doctor Parmak says, and that’s another thing that he doesn’t understand. In a year, Julian has never known Garak as anything other than, but this man, this newly exiled doctor calls him Elim and looks at the screen with a distance fondness  as he says it that makes him-

           “Yes, right, learned my lesson about underestimating _Garak_ ,” he answers, feeling that skin crawl start again. Is it because he’s thinking about Garak? Is Doctor Parmak in any danger? Julian stands up. He’s starting to feel lightheaded and it would be better if he took leave before anything strange happens. He would have thought he dreamed the night with Garak if it wasn’t for the mess of the room, the thickness in the air, and the way that Garak looked at him anew as if he could devour him.

           That’s the way that Doctor Parmak is starting to look at him now, he realizes. _No Julian, it’s all in your head. You’re just imagining it and someone’s going to get hurt if you don’t get out of here._

           “Doctor Bashir?” He hears Doctor Parmak calling his name through a sudden head pounding, a sudden rush of blood, and Julian has to blink to be sure he isn’t imagining it.

           “Forgive me, I’m not feeling well. I think the ship can run without me a moment. I just need to lie down and-”

           Julian freezes when he realizes that Doctor Parmak’s hand is around his wrist and it’s obscenely strong. He swears he sees a ripple beneath the surface and that pounding ins his head is making the room start to brighten.

           “I was wondering why I smelled Elim on you,” he hears Doctor Parmak whisper. _Oh God._ Julian swallows hard. “Clearly they meant for me to… devour you but… oh dear… Tain must be slipping.” Doctor Parmak’s other hand starts to shake as it approaches Julian’s face, detouring to his throat where Julian can already begin to feel the skin sink in. He sees the doctor’s tongue poke out a quick flicker, longer than he would have imagined.

           “I was wondering why I _tasted_ Elim on you,” Doctor Parmak continues with another hiccup of laughter. Julian opens his mouth but already finds that ability to speak normally slipping away. He can feel the fire starting to spread again, feel himself start to melt before Doctor Parmak’s eyes and that touch inflames him. “I am going to devour you, Doctor Bashir, but not the way Tain was hoping, I’m afraid.”

 _“Will I taste him on you?”_ Julian hisses back, watching Doctor Parmak’s skin growing darker and more beautiful. He watches Doctor Parmak’s mouth expand with a grin, monstrously, perfectly, showing a double row of sharp teeth. He feels Doctor Parmak’s fingers slip into the newly formed hole in his throat and the effect is instant. He think he comes.

_“Let’s find out.”_


End file.
